If Forever Never Comes
by Berry's Ambitions
Summary: [Drabble] Because sometimes, it's easier to pretend that Delmar is still here than to accept the truth. [Crank-centric]


_**If Forever Never Comes**_

_**By Berry's Ambitions**_

**A/N: A little standalone ficlet that I needed to get out of my system. Just my way of grieving for someone I never knew personally, I suppose. **

**Dedicated to Lee Thompson Young, and to Jacob Vargas.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Hills Have Eyes_.**

* * *

Crank had never intended to spend so much time at the cemetery. He thinks Delmar would've approved of this spot, though; it's quiet, private and well put together. Just like him.

Half the time Crank doesn't even do a lot, sitting there cross-legged in the comfort of the shady trees before Delmar's grave. It hasn't been quite a month now, but the guards have come to know him by name. They're kind to him, allowing him to plant yellow roses around the final resting place, giving Crank space while he sits in silence for prolonged periods of time.

Despite being raised in a devout Roman Catholic family, Crank's not a particularly religious individual (he isn't even sure where his Bible is and he's never had the patience for church) but he believes that there is a God. But when he got that near-incoherent phone call from Missy... everything changed.

He went absolutely ballistic at first, screaming and swearing and destroying things, pacing frantically and grabbing his fistfuls of his hair. But in the end - after the room lay in ruins before him and he had no voice left to use - Crank had sat on the edge of his bed, tear tracks running down his cheeks as he prayed for Delmar's soul. That his best friend was safe, wherever he was; because if anyone deserved to go to Heaven it was Delmar, who'd sacrificed so much for the well-being of others, whether he knew them directly or not.

More often that not he must remind himself to eat and sleep; a capable soldier needs to be a functioning soldier, after all. He can hear Delmar saying those words so clearly, envisioning the knowing little smile that would no doubt accompany them. Because sometimes, it's easier to pretend that Delmar is still here than to accept the truth. And by 'sometimes', Crank means 'all the time'.

It's Sunday and he can smell rain coming, if the dark encompassing clouds weren't already a blatant giveaway. The guards tell him that the oldest gravestones date to the 1860s, belonging to people who were originally buried in a graveyard which used to be located downtown. Crank is still surprised that Delmar's mother, Daphne, asked for her son to be buried here in New Mexico and not South Carolina where Delmar was born. Common sense tells Crank it was because Delmar had lived here - had done his military service here. But a more secret, selfish part of him wants to believe that Daphne had requested Delmar to be laid to rest in Sante Fe for his sake. That Daphne was trying to help her only child's best friend get through the grief as best as he could. Crank feels guilty for thinking this way, but it wouldn't completely surprise him. Delmar had to have picked up his generous nature from somewhere, and Daphne Hope strikes Crank as an incredibly kind woman. He prays for her too.

Crank takes his usual seat on the cool grass, facing Delmar's headstone directly, taking a deep breath as he reads the words so delicately carved on its marker.

_In memory of Delmar Tobias Reed_  
_February 1st, 1984 - August 19th, 2013_  
_In God's loving care_  
_May your light always shine_

"I wish I could've been there for you," he says quietly, resting his hand over Delmar's name and fighting back the prickling sensation behind his eyes. "I wish I knew..." His voice cracks, but Crank battles through it. "Wish I knew which demons you were fighting."

He has no doubt that Delmar has crossed over to the afterlife. Delmar had - _has_, Crank corrected himself sharply - too much positive energy, too much soul and grace, to be tossed aside.

"I didn't want you leave me, man," he chokes out, taking a shuddering breath as he wipes at his face. "I didn't want you to fucking leave me..."

And suddenly Crank can hear him, using that gentle, even tone whenever Crank's temper reached a boiling point. The reassuring tone. He can see Delmar right in front of him, kneeling down and resting a hand on Crank's shoulder as Delmar's light brown eyes met Crank's dark ones.

_"Don't freak out, Crank. Don't freak out. It's gonna be alright."_

Crank lets out an unrestrained sob, putting his hands on either side of his head.

_"You're going to get through this. Don't you forget that, no matter what happens."_

Crank nods shakily, trying to catch his breath. He won't forget, not ever.

_"I'll always be with you."_

The young man shifts his gaze up to Delmar's headstone one last time, brushing his fingers against the letters there. Crank leans over, pressing his lips against polished stone.

He doesn't look back as he walks away.

**~The End~**


End file.
